The Girl Is Mine
by Lil Miss Giggles
Summary: An account from both Angelus and Spike of what happened between themselves and Drusilla. Goes up to the restoration of Angelus' soul.
1. Default Chapter

The Girl Is Mine  
  
A/N:- usual disclaimers apply. This is a POV fic and it keeps swtiching between Angelus and Spike - it's based in the 1860's. And I have finally accepted that Drusilla is Spike's sire after I read a book in the Angel series so apologies for my mistakes but I'm not changing my other fics and I may occasionally switch between Angelus and Dru as his Sire depending on what I'm on at the time. :p  
  
*~* London - 1860s *~*  
  
**SPIKE**  
The room was dimly lit, the only light source being the dying fire in the hearth. Drusilla sat on the rug infront of the fire and I lazed in the armchair beside her, trying to block her incessant humming from my mind. I was so close to asking her to stop - I didn't - she didn't like being told to stop. A half empty bottle of brandy hung from my fingers, inches from the floor. I was bored. Bored, hungry, frustrated and intensely jealous. Nothing new. Two hours ago, Angelus had abandoned us in the mansion he had recently "inherited" from one of his victims. He'd gone off on one of his usual escapades : feeding, torturing, tormenting.  
Dru, my sire, lay stretched out on the wolfskin rug, eyes closed and making hand gestures as if she were conducting her own orchestra. I watched her for a while, trying to picture what she was imagining in her madness. Humans standing or sitting, playing their instruments along to the rhythm only she could hear. Turning to gaze into the fire, I raised the bottle to my lips and took a long gulp, appreciating the alcohol while I still had it.  
"Spike?"  
She had rolled over onto her stomach, tracing her cold, pale fingers down the deceased wolf's nose.  
"Yes, luv?"  
Raising her head to look at me, she smiled persuasively,  
"I want to watch Daddy play."  
Snarling softly, I snapped at her, "I don't."  
She tutted as she would to a child and crawled round to my feet,  
"Please?"  
I didn't want to go but I could hardly deny her. I hated Angelus - still do - I wanted him to leave and never come back again. I wanted Dru to myself, the way it always should have been - but then I looked at her face. All child-like innocence.  
"Alright, baby, but only 'cause it makes you happy."  
  
We made our way through the streets of London, following Drusilla's senses and stopping when I got hungry.  
She finally found him sitting alone in the corner of a smokey bar - table for two. He saw us come in and Dru smiled dreamily at him, choosing a table on the opposite side of the crowded room but so she could still see her beloved "Daddy" work. Aknowledging our entrance with a slight raise of the pint in his hand, Angelus turned his predatory gaze to the pretty barmaid approaching with his next order. she faltered as she saw the glass in his hand was full,  
"But you haven't touched the first one."  
"I wanted your attention."  
His smile charmed her instantly and I watched from my Sire's side as the foolish girl dug her own grave. seeing the look of utter contempt on my face, Dru ran her nails downmy cheek,  
"Not jealous, are we Pet?"  
Restraining a soft growl, I looked on as Angelus smiled all the more, flashing those pearly whites for all to see.  
"I don't know why he bothers."  
The barmaid absorbed his affectionate smiles and complements, falling deeper into his dark, fathomless eyes as he baited her - oblivious to the monster he really was.  
I don't like the whole date-then-devour tecnique. I prefer to scare the living daylights out of my lunch then follow as they exhaust themselves running - then of course I have my beloved railroad spikes.  
But Drusilla found all this very romantic - the charm, the smiles, the glimmer in his eyes and his intoxicating vampire kiss - irresistable to both humans and vampires alike. Like Drusilla. Ordering something stronger, I hung my arm lazily over my Sire's shoulders and watched as Angelus took the blushing girl's hand and led her upstairs to an empty room after tipping the bar-keeper. Taking a long swig from the glass, I raised my eyebrows in mild amusement,  
"Don't tell me you want to watch him play up there aswell."  
Shaking her head slowly, Drusilla confiscated my Jack Daniels and placed it carefully on the table-top,  
"Silly boy." She chided me, her lips brushing mine in a gentle kiss, "Mummy's hungry."  
  
**ANGELUS**  
I sauntered down the stairs deliberately making a point of adjusting my shirt under the collective gaze of the other customers. Recieving several nods of acknowledgement from the men at the bar, I struggled to remember her name...Isabelle - well that's what I'd heard.  
I scanned the crowded room for any signs of Drusilla and her brat-Childe William. They hadn't waited. Typical. Stepping out of the warmth of the tavern and into the cold winter's bite of the streets, I made my way home. It was nearly Christmas and I knew I'd have to buy Dru a present. I'd made arrangements for us to stay in London up until Easter, then we'd move on to Norfolk - or maybe even France. It suited Dru to spend Christmas here, she was a Londoner born and vamped, quite appropriate. I stopped as I made my way past the local jeweller's. My Childe loves anything that sparkles - like her eyes do. As I cast my gaze over the glittering display of diamonds, pearls and precious metals, a particular item caught my attention. In my soulles state I'm not usually one to be sentimental but the necklace simply screamed her name. It was perfect. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear I realised what I was doing - vampires aren't scared by coppers. I laughed and thrust a stone cold fist through the glass, withdrawing the silver necklace smothered in diamonds. Drusilla's favourites.  
  
**SPIKE**  
I watched with a respectful silence from the street corner. The boy had lost his parents - or runaway - and sat on a box in an alley, glancing imploringly at the passers-by. Dru looked at me in the usual "Stay here and be good boy" way and approached the child as he began to cry for his mother, for help from any of the gentry out for their routine stroll-before-bedtime. He looked up, eyes shining with hope as he saw Dru, her expression showing nothing but concern and love. She knelt beside him. Angelus wasn't going to be happy. That dress was new and she was kneeling on the ground in an alleyway - as usual he would take it out on me.  
She cradled the boy's head in her hands, gazing deeply into his eyes. Sometimes I'm convinced she can see right through their mind and into their soul when she does this. The child couldn't have been more than nine years old and was completely transfixed by her stare. He whimpered softly and she rocked gently, soothing him with her singsong voice,  
"Hush, kitten. Don't fret, mummy's here."  
I stood back, slinking further into the shadows and she pulled the boy closer, easing his head onto her shoulder in a gesture of motherly love. He relaxed, feeling safe as she nuzzled his neck. Then I saw her face transform and a wicked grin spread across it. The boy's body stiffened with the pain, then slumped and she allowed it to fall to the floor as I approached. She pouted slightly and I hooked one arm around her waist,  
"Disappointed?"  
She sighed and looked down at the body, slightly annoyed,  
"No struggle." Then turning to me, she licked her lips hungrily, "I want more."  
"Don't worry, luv. I'll find you another - soon I promise. But right now," I gritted my teeth as I said it, "We have to find Angelus."  
  
**ANGELUS**  
I sat in my favourite armchair infront of the fire, Dru's present safely hidden away. My eyes skimmed the newspaper in my hand for anything vaguely amusing. That "anything" was found, but by no stretch of the imagination was it amusing.  
I heard the key turn in the lock, and glancing up, saw my Childe return home with her sullen brat. I ignored them temporarily - as always - and read through the article in question. It contained descriptions of all three of us (to this day I have no idea how theys singled us out), descriptions of deaths and all the necessary precautions to take to keep safe from these "hellbeasts" and the "spawn of Satan".  
I looked up again, Drusilla was watching me expectantly and Spike had gone upstairs to change into his morning attire. She knew something was amiss. We stared into eachother's eyes a while longer, then Dru broke the silence,  
"What is it, Beloved? Will it hurt?"  
I folded the newspaper and threw it into the fire,  
"Quite possibly, my dear, quite possibly."  
Spike bolted down the stairs at the sound of his Sire's little yelp of distress,  
"What's wrong?"  
His voice was demanding and it aggravated me imensley - so I did what I loved to do most of the time, I placed the blame on him,  
"You, my *dear* boy, need to improve your table manners."  
He looked at me in utter confusion so I elaborated,  
"The townsfolk know there are vampires in their district and are taking the necessary measures to keep safe from us."  
"What?"  
"Crosses, crucifixes, holy water, garlic, fire - the whole enchalada."  
Drusilla turned to her Childe disappointedly,  
"Oh William, bad puppy."  
The boy ignored the fact that I was trying to get at him and suddenly becamme deadly serious,  
"We have to get Dru out of here."  
I nodded - finally something we agreed on,  
"Soon." I looked at my watch. "Infact - *now*."  
I stood and grabbed her by her upper arm, pulling her out into the courtyard as Spike followed.  
"I don't want to leave!" She cried plaintively.  
Spike stepped up beside me,  
"You have to, Pet. You know what humans are like."  
I signalled to our coach-driver - also vampiric - and he pulled up infront of us.  
"Take her to my place in Norfolk - she'll be safer there."  
"It took both of us to coax her into the coach - Spike's tender, soothing words promising to see her soon.  
We watched as our greatest love left weeping in the back of the coach then turned to face eachother. If only looks could kill, if only.  
  



	2. Part 2

*SPIKE*  
Finally something we both agreed on. We had to stop the "rumours" about the resident vampires (us) spreading, and we had to do it fast. We dressed in our usual evening attire, including the gentleman's cane, the gloves and the hat. We sauntered through the heart of London, wiping out the offending gossipers when we could. No-one noticed that we fitted the description perfectly. Nor that we were wearing the same style clothes as the gents in our "wanted dead" posters. We were close to the town-square where there was news of a bonfire. It was meant for any "spawn of Satan" or "Hellbeasts" that happened to be in the area. As we rounded the corner into the square, I noted the rows of offenders, lined up ready for execution. Angelus froze and I followed his gaze. I nearly died again never to be reborn. We looke at eachother, his expression pretty much mirrored my own. Pure horror. The first up was Drusilla and the next was the coachman. I was unable to move out of terror for her as she was dragged to the 7ft stake in the centre of the clearing and bound and gagged. The cries of the accused innocents ceased as they watched the priest stand before my beloved Sire, and ordered her to repent her sins. In answer to his commands, she shook her head violently, completely unafraid of the flames carried on the torches of the peasants or the consecrated water carried by the children. The priest began to chant and Angelus began to move, slowly at first but increasing in speed as the fire and water bearers grew closer to their target. Dru. He stopped behind the priest and glared over his shoulder at the holy scriptures, all in Latin. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything. Sure, he would quite happily snuff out the lives of every human in the city, but these implements of execution were to close to his Childe for him to threaten the holy man's life. I made my way around to the back of the executioners and cringed as I saw the children make their way to the front, each one carrying a sponge soaked in holy water. I restrained my snarls. They were going to make a fool of her, throw these sponges at her as if she were the village idiot. Neither of us could do a thing as they began.  
  
  
*ANGELUS*  
I saw Spike turn away, he couldn't bare to watch as they dowsed her with the sacred water, I prayed to whatever supreme being who looks over demons that she'd get out of this virtually unscathed. The water made her skin smoulder and the peasants shouted insults and accusations at her, yet still she showed no fear. The last child threw his last sponge and it was finally too much. The pain caused her face to contort and her eyes shone golden, filled with hatred and blood-lust. That was enough. I refused to stand by and watch while my baby was tortured, maimed then finally destroyed. Unleashing my anger, I lunged at the priest, fangs bared and ready to be of use. I drained him. I drained him there and then of every drop of blood he possessed. Smiling triumphantly, I flung his limp and lifeless body into the crowd of peasants, their fighting spirit crushed as their main source of defence was slaughtered before their eyes. Feeling the stolen blood pumping through my vains, I felt completely revitalised and charged at the column of torch-bearing peasants. Spike took this as his cue to save his Sire and he did it with skill. I was never one to compliment the boy or speak a single benigne word to him but he earned my praise that night.  
Seizing hold of the cart that imprisoned the accused, he swivelled it around and pushed with all his undead strength, sending it hurtling into the crowd of executioners that had collected around Drusilla to prevent us from reaching her. The crowd scattered in all directions and the cart crashed into the stake which Dru was tied to, knocking over and partially freeing her. She squirmed, chewing the gag with her fangs as Spike slowly undid the ropes which by this time were soaked in consecrated water.  
I continued to create complete chaos whilst he helped her to her feet from an arms' lenghth. He threw open the door to the cart and allowed most of the people to escape except the few who were saved to help Drusilla regain her strength and heal faster. She climbed in and so did he, making his way to the front where the horses stood anxiously, sensing the fear emitted from every human. He drove closer to me and I got in. We left London and went straight to Norfolk where it was safer for Dru.  
  
  
  
*SPIKE*  
Christmas came and Angelus looked all too proud as he brought out his oh-so-sparkly piece of antiquity for Drusilla. She loved the necklace instantly, but of course, she always loved anything Angelus gave her. Both turned to me expectantly, waiting for me to give her my gift. I grinned,  
"Stay right here. It's outside."  
  
When I came back, the look on both Dru's and Angelus' faces was priceless. Drusilla was delighted, true gratitude, not the kind she showed to Angelus simply because he was her Sire, but *true* gratitude. Angelus was fuming as I gave Dru her gift. He was a soldier from the regiment that had taken up camp not far off. Oh how she loved soldiers and this man was no exception. She gave him her undivided attention as she cooed over him and played with his hair. The poor man was pertified beyond words and I was loving every moment of it. So was she. When it came to the kill she was speechless, she couldn't believe that I had gone to all that trouble just for her, when her Sire had just thrust his fit through a window and brought it out holding a necklace. None of us knew that she wouldn't be this happy again till our little trio parted and she left for Spain with me to tour across Europe.  
And there stood Angelus, time and time again the scourge of Europe, infuriated and all of his anger was directed at me. Oh I paid for that little triumph and he made me pay well.  
  
  
*ANGELUS*  
  
Oh he was sorry for that act of defiance after I was through with him. But then I suppose I was never through with him, I never considered him to be anywhere near my rank in vampiric society till he'd dismembered his third Slayer. When I'd finished he bled. He was just an empty vessel meant for blood storage and a leaky one at that. His nose was totally broken, as was his jaw. I'd broken his arms in three places and dislocated his hip but he had hardly made an effort to fight back. Then again, he knew that if he attempted to stand up to me I would really make him hurt. Of course I had to apologise soon afterwards. I had to or my baby, Drusilla, would never speak to me again. He had smurked as those words left my lips.  
"I'm sorry."  
He knew how I hate to apologise to anyone at all. The only person I've apologised to without my soul screaming at me to do so, was Dru. She was too sensitive and as crazy as they came so I had to make an exception for her and, on this one occasion, her brat. 


End file.
